


Lost until you found me - Trouble

by Lethallan97



Series: Lost Until You Found Me (Part 1) [4]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angry Fenris (Dragon Age), Bath Sex, Bathroom Sex, Bottom Fenris (Dragon Age), Dom Solas, Elven Glory, Elven baths, Evanuris Fanatics, Fenris is Bad at Feelings, First Time, Grinding, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Porn With Plot, Rutting, Snarky sub fenris, Start of some plot to the series! Finally, Sub Fenris (Dragon Age), Tearing down the veil stuff, Top Solas, pissed off fenris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-10-03 23:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10261943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lethallan97/pseuds/Lethallan97
Summary: “Why am I here?” He demanded, and Abelas stopped his retreat but did not turn.“Bait.”Fenris travels with a company through the hissing wastes in search of an artefact necessary to tear down the veil. The Fanatics of Elgar'nan start making trouble, and Fenris finally gives in to the temptation of The Dread Wolf.-------------------------------------------Overall Series Summary:With Hawke lost in the fade, a lost Fenris joins Fen'Harel in the hopes that if the veil is torn down he can search for her.Solas wanted Fenris for his lyrium brands, hoping that their power can be enhanced to the extent that they could replace the lost foci to tear down the veil, but the two soon become close. Both are broken men, suffering the loss of a love - Hawke and his beloved vhenan - they find solace in one another in their loneliness and grief.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, finally I have started to get some plot going! :D *gasp"* 
> 
> Don't worry if you are one of my sexy-time loving readers, I have made sure not to neglect the relationship progression! They finally get it on, muhaha, I might even put a smidgem of fluff in there :D

Fenris scowled darkly at his empty water flask, only a few drops left inside enough to wet his chapped, aching lips. Abelas walked ahead of the company, leading their way through the treacherous terrain and somehow managing to look no worse for wear in this godforsaken wasteland. The rest of the company followed behind their leader, a small mixed band of warriors, rogues and mages. A few servants and pack mules carried their meagre rations and supplies, and they looked even worse than he did. Most of them were Ferelden, unaccustomed to any form of heat never mind this kind of scorching heat. The days were hot, the nights were frigid and the company was beginning to show the strain.

Fenris cursing Solas for sending them here, through the Hissing Wastes of all places. He had claimed it was once a beautiful green forest as far as the eye could see, but now it lay a barren husk upon the earth populated by creatures nobody ever wished to encounter. Solas had indulged him with only a little information on their mission, telling him only that they were to head from the Eluvian in the western approach and proceed north through the hissing wastes. It was more than anyone else in the company got to be fair, only Abelas knew their true objective. 

They had been traveling for weeks now, with no indication of how far we were from our destination. Fenris had tried to probe Abelas for the information, but his answers were unnecessarily cryptic. Fenris had thought himself trusted, but with so many unanswered questions he was beginning to doubt himself.

It was another week of trudging and slicing through savage, venomous creatures before they reached their destination with dwindling supplies. It was not too far north to be rid of the unforgiving desert sun, but enough for a few hardy plants to survive and the few flecks of green when they appeared had been a welcome change from the burnt red horizon. 

A great wide chasm split the earth before them, and as they approached it became clear that there was a thin, treacherous looking path leading down into the darkness below. 

The company kept on forward towards the chasm, before Abelas commanded that they set up camp a short distance away from the crumbling, ancient pathway. Fenris had just finished setting up his tent and was rolling out his bedroll when he heard him approach.

“Come.” Abelas commanded, ever the man of few words, and turned on his heels to stalk away assuming his command would be obeyed. Fenris grunted in affirmation anyway, and smoothed the bedroom flat before rising and following the man.

Abelas walked to the edge of the chasm, staring down the path into the gloomy darkness as he approached.

“This is what we came here for.” Abelas stated bluntly, as if this explained everything he needed to know. 

“We came for a pit?” Fenris snorted, “No. What’s down there?” Abelas shifted from foot to foot, contemplating in silence for a moment.

“In the time of ancient Arlathan, this area was one of the most fertile in the world. This place was wild, untamed. The perfect place to hide something you did not want to be easily found.” Abelas turned to him, his face stern. 

“Down that pathway, is a small temple. Within that temple, their lies an artefact. Fen’harel could not simply create the veil and thrust the Evanuris through it. There would be too many… possibilities to account for. It would not have held them.” He paused, clasping his hands behind his back and he looked to Fenris.

“A prison.” Fenris surmised, and Abelas nodded curtly.

“Yes. The artefact was used as a counterpart to the foci during the creation of the veil, it created an isolated pocket within which the Evanuris were placed. To reverse the process properly and safely dismantle that pocket, we need that artefact. We move in at dawn.” He turned, ready to head back to the camp but one question burned in Fenris’ mind.

“Why am I here?” He demanded, and Abelas stopped his retreat but did not turn. It didn’t make sense. Solas claimed he was too important to the cause to be put in harm’s way, yet he sends him through a dragon infested wasteland for this? There had to be something else.

“Bait.” Abelas said, and moved away quickly, determination in his steps. Fenris shook his head and scowled, knowing that was all he would be told. He really didn’t like the sound of that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, unbetaed! I am looking for a beta, comment if interested. 
> 
> If you see any spelling or grammar mistakes please let me know in comments, as I only briefly proofread... I am quite lazy, I just want to keep on writing so I barely proofread each bit :P 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy! Plot parts like this will be scattered in throughout parts of the story, so you'll have to read them all to keep up to date with the plot!

“Fuck!—“ a frantic Ferelden voice shouted as the step beneath his feet crumbled and Fenris thrust one gauntleted hand forward, snagging the young boy’s back armour plate just in time and yanked him back. The boy almost sent them both sprawling as he frantically gripped onto Fenris, panting in panic, as the stone step he had been on crumbled and clacked down into the darkness below. 

“T-thank you--“ He started to stutter, wide innocent eyes looking back over his shoulder through his mousy brown hair into Fenris’ stern face. Fenris pushed the boy to the side, where he hugged the rough wall, his head whipped frantically from Fenris to the spot were he had just been… likely contemplating his own fragile mortality. Fenris simply grunted in acknowledgement, and stepped nimbly over the gap that had been made. 

The passage was narrow, so they had opted to take only a small group with them into the temple. There were only five of them in total: two mages, the archer boy, Abelas and himself. The over-eager young elf boy, Mouse, had volunteered and pleaded to come on the mission, likely some misguided notion of proving himself worthy. The two mages – Velathorn and Celia - had volunteered as well, if not so eagerly.

It was surprising to see a human mage within their company, while there was a range of races that aided the dread wolf the clear majority of the dread wolf’s forces were elven. Fenris had yet to interact with any other race since he joined, but Celia was a chipper woman. Pleasant enough to be around, though her persistent nervous chatter could be a bit grating. 

“Maker, Mousie, don’t be taking a tumble on us!” She looked back at them and nudged Velathorn playfully, and giggled nervously as she saw the boys panicked face. Velathorn barely spoke, the older man responded mostly in grunts and his scarred face was only ever stern and emotionless. He looked back at them with a scowl and ignored her, continuing down the uneven steps, a spell wisp weaving slowly over his head to cast a dull blue glow to light the path before him.

“Test your footing next time. Move on.” Abelas shouted back to them, unamused by the boys near death experience. They trudged on, Celia falling back a bit to chat aimlessly with mouse. The sounds of their footsteps and her lilting voice were the only sounds, echoing back at us eerily. The stairs slowly became wider the further down the got, until they reached a part where the steps turned off, parting from the side wall of the chasm to become free standing and swerving off into the darkness.

“Halt.” Abelas called, hushing the chatter. Abelas hand glowed brightly for a second, before he waved it gently in front of him. Veilfire torches burst to life, blue-green flames flickering ominously and illuminated the bridge area before them. The temple was hardly small, despite what Abelas had claimed. It stood on a free standing platform, the drop into the dark abyss below just as disconcerting as before, and Fenris could not even begin to contemplate how it stood. Magic no doubt, his lips turning down into a scowl at the thought.

“Celia.” Abelas gestured forward, and the woman hummed in affirmation as she scurried forward to the grand wooden doors. They were decoratively carved, but most of the carvings were hidden under masses of vines that had overtaken the temple, curling up the stone walls like grasping tendrils, but time had not yet managed to consume the place. Celia approached a large stone circle in the centre of the door at around head height and placed her hands upon it. Carved ruins began to shine a bright white, as her palms channelled her magic into the abandoned stone. Abelas approached behind her, and placed what seemed to be a small ball of dark stone with runes etched across it’s surface into the centre of the circle, where it slotted perfectly into place. 

“Stand back.” Abelas gestured to Celia, who nodded frantically and ran back to the group as the ground began to shake and the circle with its glowing runes split with a thunderous cracking sound. Abelas approached as the last few tremors passed, and gave a light push on one half of the grand tall door, making it swing open silently as if it weighed nothing at all. 

“Have your weapons ready. The temples main defences have been deactivated, but do not wander.” Abelas muttered, and gestured for them to follow. 

Fenris snorted, and unstrapped his broadsword from his back, taking up his position behind the elf. 

“When do things ever go the way they are planned?” Abelas gave him a scathing side look, but the corner of one lip twitched before he moved forward.

The inside of the temple appeared to be relatively untouched by time. White light flooded the place from softly pulsing orbs, held in the twisted clutches of wood stands. A thick layer of dirt and dust coated the place, which was strangely undecorated for a temple of a so-called god. A few depictions of wolves were carved into the walls, and small sculptures scattered haphazardly marked the owner of the temple. 

“Well this is… homey?” Celia joked, as she stepped over an ancient skeleton and muttered useless apologies as the hand she stepped on crumbled beneath her foot. The place had obviously been locked and abandoned in a hurry. The skeleton at Celia’s feet was not the only one, some of them with weapons still clutched in their skeletal fingers while others had died curled up in corners. Probably trapped inside, waiting for death. This place had not been secured without a fight it seems. 

They walked forward, stepping cautiously over the bones of the dead and crumpling stone, to approached an alter at the far end of the grand hall. Upon the alter there was an ornately carved stone chest, almost like a small casket. Abelas approached it quickly, waving a hand over the box and murmured something. His palm flared at the same time as the box made a small, almost undetectable, clicking sound. Abelas lifted the heavy stone lid of the box, and placed it carefully to the side before reaching in. He quickly concealed the artefact, wrapping it tightly and binding it within cloth, before reaching for the pack hanging across his shoulder. 

“Don’t. Move.” Fenris tensed, as he felt the all too familiar cold steel of a dagger placed to his throat. He tilted his head back instinctively, only to be pulled back tighter to the chest of his attacker.

Abelas paused, turning to the side and staring intently at the man behind his shoulder. Footsteps sounded from behind Fenris and the sound of bows being drawn was unmistakable. 

“We will be taking the Harellan’mi, Sentinel” A new voice, female, echoed from the way they had entered as Fenris attempted to control his breathing. All he had to do was wait, wait for his moment. 

Abelas turned fully now and looked to the bundle in his hand and back up, catching Fenris’ eye. He chuckled darkly, and looked past his shoulder.

“I admit, I hadn’t expected it to be you. You played the meagre part well, Mouse.” Fenris’ brow furrowed and he scowled. Seems he should have let the boy fall to his death, saved us the grief. 

“Everyone always underestimates me.” The boy shouted bitterly, blade pressing a little too close and Fenris hissed atthe sting as the blade lightly pierced the skin of his throat and he felt a small trick of liquid spill down his neck. That’s when all hell broke loose. 

Abelas yanked his daggers from their sheaths, magic welling in his palms and setting the blades aflame and he jumped into the chaos as the screaming started behind them. Blood gurgled in throats, smothering the sounds of dying screams, and the two mages who had stood frozen a short distance away from him sprung into action flinging spells behind him. 

Mouse jumped as the screaming started, breath speeding up in fear as he looked for who was attacking his people. He momentarily lost concentration and the blade left Fenris’ throat for just a moment. A moment was all he needed. He slipped down to his haunches, head clearing the blade before he spun and knocked the boy to the ground with a sweep of one bared foot. His fist lit with lyrium and sunk into the boys chest as he gasped and stared at him, his bottom lip quivering childishly.

“Please…” Mouse whispered, and Fenris paused. A mistake. He cried out, as he felt a short dagger slide into his right side, just before he squeezed his fist and crushed the boys heart. He wrenched his hand from the boy’s chest, chunks of flesh and blood spraying through the air. He paused, down on one knee, panting to catch his breath only to be hit by a wave of pure nausea. He looked down to his side in confusion, clasping the short dagger and yanked it out quickly. His jaw clenched and he grunted at the sharp pain, his vision blurring. 

“Fenedhis…” He grumbled, staggering. His wound was not deep, nor was the blade serrated. He should not feel like this. His vision grew steadily darker, floor wavering below him before he slipped. His shoulder landed awkwardly, and a bolt of agony shot through him, but he found he could not move. He forced his heavy head up, in the direction of the main bulk of the fighting. 

A pair of armoured legs blocked his view, but at least a dozen men and women lay dead or dying behind them, with only a few left standing being pummelled by fire and ice from the mages. The legs crouched down beside him, and firm hands rolled him gentle onto his back and a familiar face inspected his wound. 

“You… bastard… following?...” Fenris muttered, struggling to keep his heavy eyelids open as he started into Solas’ concerned face. He chucked at that, nodding briefly, but ignored him in favour of tending to his wound. He pressed a finger inside the wound and Fenris tensed, grunting and panting in pain as Solas lifted the finger to his nose and sniffed it. 

“A Paralysing Agent, they brought it for transporting you.” Fenris tried to scowl but found his face was heavy and numb. Solas looked relieved for a moment and pressed a palm to his face, cupping Fenris’ jaw, before he slipped his arms under him and lifted him close to his chest. 

Fenris grumbled in protest and Solas simply shushed him as he moved, a mildly concerned Abelas appearing at his side. Abelas murmured, offering to take him from Solas, only for him to shake his head and reject the offer.

“This is… becoming…. a habit…” Fenris mumbled into his chest, lips slurring the words that came without any real heat. He felt a laugh rumble from the chest through him, before he slipped into the comforting embrace of unconsciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sexy times taster, but I have got more one the way! :D After some slight angst of course!

Fenris awoke with a hiss, his body ached in protest with every jerk and sway of the cart. He pried his eyes opened and groaned as the glaring light blinded him. He squinted, his head felt like a boulder where it lay propped up on what seemed to be a threadbare bag of oats or grains of some kind. He looked around, resulting in his head lolling to the side aimlessly as his temples throbbed in protest at the movement. He could make out the sounds of idle chatter and the sounds of hooves as the cart trudged slowly onward. He furrowed his brow in frustration, as he tried to move his numb fingers. A metallic click could be heard as his gauntlet clad fingers slid against each other, but even that amount of movement left him tired and panting with the effort. He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, twitching his fingers and toes in between bouts of exhausted sleep, but the sun now lay low in the sky and glowed a warm red as the cart pulled to a stop. The company stopped and began to set up camp, tents appeared around him and the flickering orange of flames lapped at the growing shadows as fires were lit and food began to cook. The sound of light rapid footfalls approached close to the cart, before stopping and Solas’ face loomed over the side at him.

“Ir Abelas, I did not expect you to be awake. I should have sent someone to check on you.” He frowned, brow furrowing as he inspected him. He leant over the side, lifting his sweat stuck leather undershirt easily and prodded at his now naked side. Fenris growled as a finger trailed over the wound sending a sharp string through him as the other elf hummed his approval.

“It was… disinclined to heal, but there should be no adverse effects.” He murmured, before rounding to the open end of the cart and stepping up onto it. He leaned down, knees touching Fenris’ uninjured side as he leaned over him. He cast his eyes downward, eyes narrowing as the fell to the wound again and he sighed regretfully. Fenris furrowed his brow and frowned, at least his face was more responsive now.

“What--?” Fenris began, voice rough and cracked but Solas shushed him with a shake of his head and slipped his hands under his body, lifting him bodily from the cart.

“I will elaborate on the events that occurred at the temple but… not here.”  He jumped down the small distance from the cart to the ground, but the effect was still jarring. A sharp pain sliced through his head as he made his way through the camp. Fenris eyes widened, as he got a better look at the dense green terrain around them, they certainly weren’t anywhere near the hissing wastes anymore. How long was he unconscious?

“How long was I out?” Solas trudged on, glancing down at him as he walked.

“Not as long as you might have anticipated. There was a dormant eluvian within the temple, which I activated, which then took us to the exalted planes. Now we encroach upon the emerald graves, you have only been asleep for 4 days.” Fenris scowled, feeling the tips of his ears heat in embarrassment. He had never been this _useless_ before, being incapacitated at every turn.

“I have never been this… incapable before.” It sounded like a whining excuse even to his own ears, but Solas chuckled and smiled.

“You were never the main target of your enemy’s efforts before.” We had travelled relatively far off from the camp now, and the trees parted as they continued to reveal columns of grand stone, crumbling in places and covered in vines and moss but undoubtedly beautiful. He smiled as Fenris eyes widened, taking in the sight of beautiful circular pools of varying sizes embedded in the ground around the area. The stone bases of the pools were marble, some a beautifully coloured mottled blue while others were a simple pearly white.

“We are here.” He moved forward, before laying Fenris unceremoniously onto the soft grass beside one of the pearly white pools. He waved a hand and the water began to steam and bubble gently, and he began to remove his armour plating.

“Are you trying to drown me?” Solas laughed, delicate gold gauntlets falling to the grass with a thud before being followed by the breastplate. Once all the golden metal lay in a neat pile, he moved to Fenris and slid his gauntlets from his dead weight hands.

“I assure you I will not allow that to happen, Da’Fen.” He looked into his eyes, a serious look that burned into Fenris. He was apologising, Fenris realised. Solas removed his breastplate and remaining armour, before slipping the leather tunic underneath over his head. He smirked as Fenris grumbled in protest at his now bared chest.

“Would you rather sleep in sodden leather? Or would you rather not bathe at all?” Solas raised one eyebrow and pinched Fenris’ leggings, sticky with sweat and dirt. Fenris scowled and glared at him, knowing that the humid night would make the leather unbearable. He sighed and shook his head.

“Get on with it then. Don’t try anything.” One corner of the elf’s lips twitched up, as he grasped the waist of his leggings and began to peel them off him.

“Nothing unprovoked.” He chuckled menacingly, as the cool air ran over his revealed skin. He pulled away when he was done, slipping his own cloth under-leggings off before lifting and prodding Fenris into position beside the pool with his legs dangling over the side. Solas slipped in first, water encased him until just below his chest. Firm soft hands grasped Fenris’ hips and lifted him, pulling him towards the edge and against his supporting chest before slowly sliding him into the water below.

A groan slipped from Fenris’ lips as the heat spread through his aching body, water caressing everywhere it touch as his muscles relaxed into Solas’ chest. A small ledge had been hidden just under the water, and Solas turned him round and pulled Fenris’ back to his chest as he sat back onto the ledge.

“These were mine, before.” Solas sighed, his hot breath washed over Fenris’ neck and his lips tickly lightly at his ear. Fenris frowned in confusion, letting his head fall around to look back at him in confusion. Solas smiled sadly, one hand releasing its grip on his waist to quickly grab something from the pile of his clothing.

“I admit, I wasn’t sure if they still stood. These baths, I had them built. I brought slaves back to one of my camps near here, an age ago when Arlathan still stood…”  Fenris growled, tensing as much as his body would allow and Solas huffed at him in disapproval as he pulled his hand back, a small square of soap in his hands.

“I brought the slaves back here to be _freed_ , Da’Fen, do not look at me like that. I removed their vallaslin, and these pools were often the first luxury they experienced that did not come with price….” He pulled Fenris tight against him as he frowned, and began to run the soap gently across his chest to wash away the grime that clung to him.

“I thought you might like this place.” Fenris huffed out air through his nose and supressed a groan as his touch sent shivers through him, his head fell back onto the other elf’s shoulder as a gentle hand following to scrub him clean. Fenris was not dalish, but he had heard snippets of stories since he came here about the dread wolf’s hatred for slavery. He hadn’t thought it to have went as far as to free them. He hummed in approval. The hand was clinical as it cleaned his torso, but Fenris felt his face heat again as he realised his reaction was anything but clinical, that hand stirring places he’d rather not stir right now.

“You told me you would tell me what happened today.” Fenris breathed, changing the subject to give himself something else to concentrate on. Solas paused and sighed, his hands slipping up to massage the earthy scented soap into his shoulders.

“Yes… We have gained traitors in our midst. Mouse and those from the company who rushed to his aid were the first, but there will be more now.” He sighed, and Fenris frowned.

“The inquisition?” Solas shook his head, eyes downcast.

“No, they are… misguided fanatics. They call themselves The Son’s of Elgar’nan. They believe that I am wrong, that I am exactly what the dalish deemed me to be. They are a band of devout dalish fools and outcast city elves, but they have become larger and stronger. They have become more organised… but they are causing chaos. I have chosen to keep their existence a secret from most of more forces for now.” A finger trailed across the lyrium lines on his chest, a nail catching gently on one of his hardened nipples. Pleasure and heat speared to his core as his lyrium flared in response to the magic laying just beneath the other elf’s skin.

“I wish to use your lyrium, and the tool which we retrieved today to destroy the plane in which the evanuris now exist before removing the veil entirely. They could not resist the bait. Both the instruments that both they and I require, in one place, to draw out the bulk of the traitors.” Fenris let out an unsteady breath. As he spoke, he had moved to massage the soap into his thighs under the water. A slight move to the side and he would unknowingly stumble upon his rock-hard length hidden beneath the soapy water.

“I… I don’t care much for being left in the dark.” He muttered breathlessly.

“Ir abelas, but you were being watched. One move out of the ordinary, and they would have known.” He leaned in, his lips brushing his temple gently in apology as his knuckles brushed his cock under the water and he smirked into Fenris’ jaw. Solas pulled him back tight against his chest as a gasp slipped from him, and Fenris shivered at the answering press of hardness now obvious on his lower back. They were still for a moment, panting breath and the sound of the forest the only sounds to be heart.

“ _Nothing unprovoked.”_ Solas quoted and chuckled before eager lips latched onto the flesh behind his ear and sucked hard, teeth nipping teasingly at his neck before a hand cupped his jaw and pulled his head hard to the side. Solas lips clashed with his, swallowing his gasp, insistent tongue plunging into his mouth and teeth nipped at his lips. Solas’ hand slid to the line of lyrium on his neck and his finger dragged a line of pulsing magic downward, pushing pure heat down to his already aching cock. Solas pulled away with a wet sound and a reluctant groan after a moment, hand still holding his jaw in place as he looked into Fenris’ eyes and shook his head. He licked his kiss plumped lips and panted.

“You must tell me that this is what you want, or this goes no further.” He laughed bitterly and shook his head. “I commanded you to come to me or this would not happen again, but my willpower seems to be… lacking.” Fenris scowled, panting and wished he had the ability to squirm but his body still refused. Fenris averted his eyes, and Solas began to pull away.

“Wait… ugh.” Fenris scowled as he stuttered, face hot. “Just… do it.” Solas leaned in to his lips again, but stopped.

“That is not an answer.” Solas smirked, breath tickly Fenris’ lips. The seconds ticked by slowly, and Fenris scowled down at his traitor cock.

“Hh… I… Yes…” He breathed, and the reaction was instantaneous. His lips were crushed back to his, teeth clacking with the urgency and the hand on his jaw released him. It slithered down his chest, magic crackling along his markings, and trailed lower to firmly grasp his hard length. Fenris let out a shaky moan and whimpered as the hand tightened and began to move in ernest. This wasn’t going to be a slow affair, Fenris knew. He could feel the desperation in both of their movements as Fenris did his best to rock into the hand that gripped him and Solas’ other hand gripped his hip to grind his cock against his lower back.

“Ugh!...” Fenris cried out, head falling back against his shoulder once again as their lips parted and they rutted together. The heat was searing, pleasure singing through every vein and he knew it wasn’t going to last. Solas grunted, hand twisting beautifully at the end of each stoke and Fenris’ back arched as much as his body would allow him as he came into the water around them. Solas’ hand stroked him through it as he rutted faster into his back, grinding hard as his teeth sank into Fenris’ shoulder with a shaky moan as he came.

They lay there for a while, panting into the darkness, until the water cooled and couldn’t wait any longer.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know, I'm an arse, I haven't updated in ages! I stopped because I got writers block and couldn't figure out how to continue after the last chapter. Recently I reread it to try get back into it and decided to just write a slightly fluffy morning after scene, so here it is! Hopefully this means the writers block will die and I can get this part finished off soon

A pale hand lifting the entrance to the tent, and Fenris hissed as the red dawning light assaulted his senses, pain spiking through his temples. He heard a chuckle as he shoved his face further into the comfort of the threadbare pillow he had in a grip, groaning his displeasure into it. 

“Come now, you cannot sleep all morning. We depart in an hour.” Fenris turned his head, glaring out from the embrace of the pillow with one exposed eye. Solas chuckled and set down a small bundle of cloth he had been carrying, before approaching and crawling toward him on the wide cot. He flopped down beside him, his weight balanced on one elbow. 

Fenris scowled and turning away to avoid the older man’s inquisitive gaze, only to find an arm wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. Solas’ chin came to rest in the crook of his neck, hot breath caressing the skin there.

“You aren’t allowed to run off, until you have eaten. You are recovering. You will need the nourishment.” Fenris grumbled and squirmed a moment, before the other elf sighed regretfully and released him. Fenris rolled over, placing his feet carefully on the ground. They still felt strange and heavy, the kind of numbness he had felt before when he had lay upon a limb too long. He flexed his toes, rolling his ankles and wincing as they cracked loudly. He pulled on a simple white linen shirt, that was much too large for him, over the basic leggings made of a soft cloth that he had been redressed in the night before. They had been easier to redress him in than sticky leather.

He rose on to slightly unsteady feet, but found himself more stable than he anticipated. He turned to see Sola sitting cross legged upon the rough ground, munching steadily on a piece of bread from the bundle he had brought in, now unwrapped and spread out upon the floor. The elf gestured to the meagre spread, an array of breads, hard cheeses and dried meats.

“Eat.” He frowned a moment, before slowly moving towards the man and lowering himself slowly to the ground. He reached for a lump of the bread and placed some of the meat and cheese upon it, only now realising that he was ravenous. He tore into it eagerly, surprised by how soft and light the bread was. Travelling rations like these tended to be of the… rock hard variety. 

“I see your mobility is returning well.” Solas tilted his head to the side as he looked at him, and Fenris hummed in response. 

“It has returned enough. I won’t need your... “ He frowned, “ _ assistance _ any longer.” He cast his eyes down, avoiding the dread wolf’s gaze. “You do not need to  _ pity me _ anymore.” 

Fenris scowled, staring down at the dirt beneath his toes which had suddenly become so interesting. Solas narrowed his eyes at him and one hand found chin to force his head gently up. 

“I could have handed you over to the healers, or to Abelas, or to anyone really once I had ensured your continued survive, Fenris”. Fenris pulled his chin from the man’s grip and scowled.

“I did not. Not because I  _ pity  _ you…” He dropped his hand, his gaze locked on his, “You were a slave. Not just a slave… but one who could not remember a life  _ before.  _ You walked a path of sorrow, what should have been… your Din’anshiral. Your path of death, if not in body then in spirit.” He leaned forward, and clasped Fenris’ wrist, turning his inner wrist towards him as he traced the lyrium embedded there.

“Slavery, this, would have been the end for any normal elf… but you are not ordinary. I expected you to be… broken, when I heard of a lyrium branded, ex-slave of Tevinter.” He shook his head. “But you are not. You are… quick to anger, I admit, but never without cause.” He chuckled and brought Fenris’ wrist to his lips. “You bear pain, and lose much greater than many could even imagine, yet you are not broken. You walked your Din’anshiral and lived, not just survived. You are ...extraordinary. I did not…  _ assist _ you out of pity. In  _ any  _ way, Da’Fen.” He placed a gentle kiss upon his wrist. Fenris mouth opened, but no sound came out. He just… stared.

“Fen’harel, may I speak with you?” A voice interrupted a second before a hand descended on the entrance to the tent. Fenris’ eyes widened and he yanked his hand back from the other elf’s gentle grasp, lyrium lines pulsing faintly at the contact. Solas’ eyes snapped to the entrance of the tent, as a scout’s head poked through the entrance. The scouts eyes widened slightly as he stuttered out an apology.

“My apologies, Fen’Harel, I did not know you were in a meeting…” Fenris scowled and pulled away, breakfast abandoned on the cloth spread out in front of him as he rose. 

“No. We were done here.” Fenris clenched his jaw, eyes fluttering anywhere but the other man who still sat upon the ground with his gazed locked on him. Fenris grabbed his sword and pushed the flustered scout out of the way to leave.

“I expect you to  _ report  _ back soon, Fenris.” 

  
With that… he ran. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every time I think I can nearly finish this piece, another idea pops into my head that adds another scene to it... good for anyone wanting to read it I suppose, but bad for me trying to progress the plot line :P 
> 
> Hope you like it anyway, the writers block has vanished now so I am really looking forward to finishing this part! Except... ahum... I had another idea... so the series as a whole will not finish where I originally intended it too! :P 
> 
> Anyway enjoy, and as usual apologies for any spelling/grammar mistakes! I have trouble filling in the 'in-between parts' between big plot points, so I hope you guys don't mind it being quite fast paced plot :P I just really love getting to writing my main plot points, so don't have the patience for all the little parts in between! It's part of why i am having trouble writing my other Solas/Inquistors daughter fic, as it's a continual story that needs in between points so motivating myself to write it is hard!  
> Thanks for reading anyway :D

_You are a Fool,_ Fenris thought.

Was he really that foolish, to bed the Dread Wolf? The trickster of elvish legend, the so called _God_ known for lies and deceit. The man wanted something from him. No one in this world gave anything for free, except for… Hawke. Hawke had been kind, and good. Hawke had loved him and expected nothing from him in return. He was why he was here in the first place, he shouldn’t have given in. He had… given up, without even realising it.

He stalked through the halls of the fortress aimlessly, his thoughts squirming inside his skull like maggots. He was only allowed here because he was necessary to the elf’s plans, he treated him well to keep him here. What had happened, what he offered… it was all an elaborate trick to chase out any thoughts he might have of leaving. Any conscience he might have suddenly gained that might have told him it was wrong to burn this world asunder, in the selfish hope of finding his lost love. Maybe he thought he could _replace_ Hawke? Gain his loyalty that way, did he think he was that _easy_?

Yet… he had been kind. Kind like Hawke. _Good_ like Hawke. He had saved him pain, and called him extraordinary…. He shook his head, and clenched his teeth to the point of pain. Lies. No one swallows a lie without complaint, unless it tastes sweet. He sighed, regret and indecision pooling low in his gut and his chest felt tight with panic. Not for the first time.

He let out a quick huff of air and turned abruptly. It had been four days since they returned to the fortress, and even longer since he had started avoiding the man. The same thoughts whirled around his head every day he rose with the dawn, and today would end be no different than the rest.

He headed in the direction of his room, fists clenched in frustration. He would rest. The thoughts wouldn’t be gone in the morning, but slumber at least gave him some respite from the gnawing feeling in his gut that told him he was being cornered.

*              *                *          *

“You’ve been avoiding me, Fenris.” Hot breath caressed his ear and an involuntary shiver slivered down his body. Fenris’ head whipped around to look over his shoulder, and saw nothing. His brow furrowed as he scanned the meadow around him, finding nothing but thick towering tree trunks casting shadows over the expanse of green littered with wildflowers. A sharp crack of wood sounded off to the side, and as he glared in that direction as the shadows cast by the trees seemed to grow longer, twisting and turning in an unnatural dance. He stared, mesmerised as the shadows twisted into scenes and shaped before his eyes, until a low growl sent fear pulsing through his veins like syrup and a sense of dread filled him.

He looked up slowly, staring into deep blue eyes past a massive dark muzzle, with just a hint of the deadly white teeth that lurked behind it’s panting maw. Fenris’ eyes widened as he scrambled backwards, palms pushing frantically against damp grass in his futile efforts to put distance between him and the beast. It growled again, a warning sound as its muscles bunched and it crouched low.

The impact took the breath out of Fenris, adrenaline pulsing like syrup through his veins and his heart pumped wildly in his chest as his back collided with the ground with a thud. The snarling jaws leaned closed, eyes locked to his, until the fur and flesh peeled away, falling in chunks like wet paper that never met the floor.

“Fasta Vass! Festis bei umo canavarum, Somniari!” The last word came out full of heated malice as his cheeks grew hot with embarrassment as he recognised the smug face above him, clad only in tight green leggings. Fenris’ head fell back with a thump as he panted in relief as the fear left his body tense and shaking. The toned elven form now on top of him chuckled lightly, one leg slipping between Fenris’ own, as he descended upon him. His lips  were so close now that his breath tickled his face and his bare chest pressed flush against his own.

“I would not have to infiltrate your mind as you slumber, if you hadn’t made me da’len.” That infuriating smirk was back, lips curling just so to reveal teeth. The expression was far more reminiscent of the predator he was, than the elf he appeared to be. Fenris scowled and squirmed uselessly against the body pinning him, only managing to squirm harder against the thigh between his legs and he flushed with colour again as unwelcome heat stirred in him.

“Let. Me. Up. Mage!” He growled, pushing at his bared shoulders but he barely budged, the man seemly as difficult to move as a boulder. He tutted, tucking his head down into the crock of Fenris’ neck as he squirmed, and nibbled at the exposed skin there. Fenris’ growl stuttered, a pathetic gasp sneaking from his throat before he could supress it. Solas’ hands pinned his shoulders gentle to the ground as he worked, licking and nibbling along as jaw to his ear, leaving Fenris a panting writhing mess on the forest floor. Solas pulled away smirking, and pressed his lips to his, chaste but lingering.

“Don’t make me come looking for you again, Da’len. Sa’Vunin… You have one day to come to me,” he cocked his head to this side and smiled wickedly, “before I come for you.” He chuckled and suddenly he was gone, leaving a frustrated Fenris sprawled upon the ground. Fenris let his head thump to ground and snarled, one hand pounding into the ground before him before the forest around him melted into the dark stone walls of his room as he woke.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so final chapter for this part of the series :D   
> This is just our intro to the next part, which I will be writing veryyyy soon since I have been really excited to get to and write this part. Expect some lovely rough angry/hurt smut followed by some lovely fluff in the next part to this series, which is going to be called 'Fragile' :D

It… wasn’t like Solas to lie to him.

Fenris was never going to go to him. It wasn’t in him to cow down to a command, to give in to the other man’s trickery, even if a small traitorous part of him wanted to. He would not seek out the Dread Wolf, so he fully expected the Dread Wolf to seek him out instead.

Fenris was sure the man would be furious, not used to having his demands ignored. He expected him to burst into his rooms after the day was up, show his true colours, and Fenris had prepared himself for a confrontation. To turn him away and cast him from his room, to tell him never to try to trick him again.

That is what he expected when his day was up. He was out of time… three days ago.

Three days since he expected him to come to him, three days since anyone had last seen him. He had not accosted him in the fade, not sent for him or sent a messenger… nothing. When Fenris casually listened for his whereabouts, he heard different things some of them more preposterous than anything else.

Perhaps, Fenris thought, he had taken the hint. Taken his refusal to come to him as a sign that he was no longer wanted, and forgotten all about him.  He fidgeted uncomfortably at the thought.

That was what he wanted. He wanted the man to leave him alone, and he got it… so why was we he here. Why was his gut telling him something wasn’t right.

He flexed his jaw, and hesitated before the large wooden archway that lead to Abela’s office. The archway was tall and wide, baring the contents of the room to all who wished to see it. Papers sat on desks scattered around the room, neatly piled and organised. The room was bare of any unnecessary furnishings, and a small cot lay tucked in the corner behind a semi-transparent screen which looked hard and uncomfortable. Trust the stern-faced elf to choose to sleep on a bed like that when he could demand anything he wished of the Dread Wolf, as his top agent.

Fenris frowned, and pitied the man. He knew very well why he chose that. The man had been a slave as well, to the mage ‘Goddess’ Mythal. He knew the compulsion to live like this, the instinctual feeling that you did not deserve better… it was a difficult one to supress.

“Fenris.” Abelas stood, hunched over a desk covered in papers and maps that was in disarray. Strange, considering the man’s almost compulsive tendency for organisation. He looked… tired.

Fenris’ brow furrowed in concern. Abelas’ face was set in a grim frown, his clothing was rumpled and his gaze felt… desperate. Fenris strode forward towards the man, concern welling up in him unbidden.

“Something is wrong.” It wasn’t a question.

Abelas cast his eyes down and nodded seriously, rubbing a hand across his jaw as he looked down at the papers below him.

“We received a letter. A small company of our spies were sent out just after out return from the Temple of the Harallan’Mi. The trip was not meant to take long, a few days at most. None of them have returned.” Fenris frowned at this, and looked at him questioningly.

“Unfortunate, but that isn’t the only problem, is it? Scouts go missing all the time in war.” Abelas nodded again, and started to pace in agitation.

“It is not. The spies were being dispatched through an eluvian… the eluvian at Tarasyl’an Te’las.” Fenris cocked an eyebrow questioningly, the other man knew well he did not know the language. Abelas pointed to the map spread upon the table between them.

“The Skyhold eluvian. The Inquisitor was… dying. The anchor within her hand was killing her. Fen’harel removed her arm, slowed the process. He could not stop it completely however, she still fades. He gave her as much time as he could.” Fenris frowned, before realisation dawned on him.

“He went to see her…” Fenris’ eyes widened, he had disappeared visiting his love. His inquisitor. He knew of her, it was common knowledge whispered among the men and women of the fortress. There were rumours he still loved her, still visited her. Fenris shook off a stab of hurt, and stared at the map. He hadn’t thought they were true. The visiting part, at least.

“He did. I received a letter… he and the rest of the company have been taken. They wish to ransom back the scouts for information and coin.” Abelas pointed once again to the map, where a small circle had been placed in black ink east of Skyhold.

“It seems the fanatics have spies within the Inquisition as well. Our only saving grace is they have not yet realised who he is.” Fenris eyes widened.

The Son’s of Elgar’nan had the Dread Wolf.


End file.
